Blocking Out the Sun
by Band10hut
Summary: Princess Rapunzel seems to have it all: loving parents, a lovely kingdom, a protective nurse named Gothel, and beautiful, mysterious golden hair. But when a seemingly innocent courtship turns into a deadly coup that ruins both her life and the entire kingdom, the Lost Princess must learn to survive as a fugitive with some shady characters as dark clouds block out her sun.
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, a single drop of sun fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun grew a magic golden flower. It had the ability to heal the sick and injured, as well as keep the old young forever. All you had to do was sing a special song, and it would heal you of all your aches and woes. However, this flower remained hidden on a cliff overlooking a vast lake, surrounded by rocks and other shrubbery that grew thicker each passing year.

Centuries passed, and a glorious kingdom called Corona grew on the island in the middle of the giant lake, not to far from the flower's location. It was an epicenter of prosperity and culture; a visiting dignitary once noted that it "shone like a sun in the middle of a blue sky lake." So the crest was accordingly made with a yellow sun placed in the center of royal purple.

In its three hundredth year, Corona remained a small but peaceful kingdom, ruled by the most beloved king and queen: Frederick the Merciful and Arianna, a princess of Arendelle and sister to its king. They took care of their people like a child feeding the birds: gladly, freely, and without any thought of reward. As a result, the Coronans loved them dearly.

Their admiration of the royal couple doubled when it was announced the queen was expecting a child! A baby, an heir to the throne! For eight months Corona happily awaited the birth, unaware of the long, perilous road that awaits an expecting mother and baby.

Several months since the announcement, the queen complained of a slight headache at a ball. This grew into a migraine that lasted two weeks. Just as the migraine let up, her chest began to rattle with heavy coughs. Her strength drained away, leaving a sickly, bedridden woman carrying a great weight within her stomach. Hordes of doctors, physicians, and midwives flooded the castle gates, claiming to have a cure- the king spent piles of money trying to save his wife and unborn child, but none prevailed. So instead of awaiting a birth, the kingdom anticipated a most grievous death of a popular royal.

Still, the king refused to give up. Remembering an ancient legend about a flower that could heal the sick, even resurrect the dead, he offered a generous reward for the person who found and deliver it to him. The entire population of Corona leaped from their beds to pick this blossom, save the queen, and collect their reward along with a lifetime of fame. It was like a giant scavenger hunt, save for the fact that no one had fun; Queen Arianna's life was at stake, after all.

Now, there was an old woman called Mother Gothel who lived in the forest. She had neither family nor friends that she knew of. All she possessed was a Golden Flower that kept her young and beautiful for hundreds of year whenever she sang. Seeing how this precious treasure had come into high demand, she kept it hidden beneath a makeshift bush. Unfortunately, with the entire nation of Corona searching, she realized how difficult it would be to keep this glorious secret.

So she did the last thing imaginable; she actually gave them the flower! No, she didn't yank it out of the ground and hand it over. Gothel plucked a single petal off the bloom, covered the rest up, and went straight to the castle, claiming she found part of the Golden Flower for the Queen.

The single petal went into a tonic, which went to the Queen, who then made an overnight recovery. Corona rejoiced in having their happy rulers back; only five days after recovery, Arianna went into intense labor.

A healthy baby girl, a princess, was born, with beautiful golden hair and her mother's green eyes. Delighted beyond their wildest dreams, the new parents named their child Rapunzel, after the rampion her mother craved throughout the pregnancy. She would rule her family's kingdom with all the grace and wisdom that befitted a royal; she'd do better than them, both mother and father vowed.

To celebrate her birth, the king and queen launched a flying lantern into the sky- a Corona tradition. For that one moment, everything was perfect.

But for Gothel, everything seemed to be going wrong. Plucking the petal caused the flower to wilt. Only a hint of the magic remained. Her skin lost its smoothness, her ebony hair betrayed streaks of gray. She got her monetary reward, true, but what good was it if she died from old age?

So the bitter woman returned to the palace, demanding to see the king. Upon being granted an audience, she asked only to see the young princess, whose life she saved with her flower. Confused but naive, Frederick let her see their sleeping baby. Gothel saw the gold locks, a rather uncommon trait in Corona, and left the castle in a pensive state.

Later that night, as the royals slept, Gothel broke into the house. She saw the child, blissfully asleep in her crib, alone and unguarded, Clutching a tress of hair, the old woman began to sing the familiar tune. The baby's hair glowed- yes, glowed- a radiant, soothing yellow that seeped into Gothel's old bones, making her young and beautiful just as the dying flower did.

Smiling widely, Gothel produced a pair of scissors and cut off a tuft, but the hair turned a rich brown, much like Arianna's, as soon as it was severed. The magic instantaneously faded; the aged Gothel returned. Now she saw that the hair only worked if kept intact.

Gothel considered kidnapping the child. But so much trouble- evading the guards, fleeing the country, keeping the child in the dark. Too much for a five hundred year old woman! But maybe an alternative existed.

Gothel sang to the child a final time, buying her a day's worth of youth, then slipped back out, totally unnoticed. The next morning she returned, giving the reward money back to the monarchy. Instead of the reward money, she reasoned, she requested a purpose: let her be the child's nursemaid. She had no home or family, but if she had the chance to help raise a future queen, perhaps she could feel some contentment in her life. Frederic and Arianna couldn't resist.

So Gothel became Mother Gothel- she alone truly knew the princess. Although Arianna longed to be more active in her child's life, the duties of being a monarch simply did not allow it. Gothel came to dictate almost everything in Rapunzel's life: her clothes, her day-to-day routine, her exposure to the outside world. And her hair.

She'd figured out a way to stretch the magic out. During haircuts, she cut only most of the hair, not all. She'd then feed Rapunzel some of the Golden Flower- now the Golden Dust, as it worked better in a powder- to restore the hair's power, leaving a single tuft a natural brown. Yes, she was too clever.

So eighteen years passed like this. Rapunzel grew into a beautiful, talented, but sheltered young woman, blissfully unaware of the dark clouds gathering on her kingdom's horizon, ready to block out the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

"If this word should turn out to be a _'Te moriturum saluto_ ,' perhaps it will brighten the dark moments a little to think how you have meant to someone more than anything ever has or ever will. What you have striven for will not end in nothing, all that you have done and been will not be wasted, for it will be a part of me as long as I live, and I shall remember, always."  
― Vera Brittain, Testament of Youth

* * *

 _Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a castle tower that touched the clouds with her parents and wicked nurse. She had the longest, most beautiful golden hair that went to her waist. Although nobody except for her and the evil nurse knew it, it had the ability to heal the sick and injured. All you had to do was a sing a special song to make it glow like the sun's light._

" _One day, a handsome man showed up at the tower and saw for himself how beautiful the princess was. They fell in love and planned to run away together. The evil witch wanted to stop them, since she relied on the magic hair to stay young and beautiful, but they would not be denied their freedom. They fled into the forest together; the witch chased them up the length of the kingdom and back. Finally, the beautiful princess realized her long hair was more of a burden than a gift and cut it off. The old hag turned to dust, and the princess's hair turned an even prettier brown. That suited her lover just fine, since he always had a thing for brunettes. They walked away from this mess to live happily ever after, in land where floating lanterns flew high in the sky when the big golden sun was hidden. There were chameleons and giant libraries with plenty of walls to paint on, and all was well in the land."_

"That's not how the story goes." I interrupt him gently, placing a hand on his arm. He pauses, then shrugs.

"I know. But I like to think of it that way."

"Me too." The story is charming. I'd enjoy hearing more about the fair maiden's adventures with her handsome fellow, but it still hurts when placed against the truth.

"I know," he says, reading my mind. He leans against me closely, as if we can read each other's' souls like tarot cards just by touching. And in a way, we can. The simple twitch of a muscle, the goosebumps of flesh, the loping beat of a heart. I was a nurse; I know all about the human body. Much more than I thought I ever would.

"I know," he repeats, wrapping one arm around me. There's too much to say after that; he knows as much about me as I about him, though not through the careful exploration of mind and body, but through my countless moments of foolish weakness. I don't care anymore; I'm somewhat glad for them. Who knows where I'd be if I hid my emotions as well as others I've met?

"About what?" I query anyway. I want to hear him try, to let myself know I'm not alone in this sea of madness.

"Everything," he breathes. He glances at me once through pained chestnut eyes, then gently kisses my forehead. I close my own green eyes, remembering everything. Everything. They say life flashes before you just before you die. And it's true; I am dying. But it is welcome, because now, as the old life finally fades like clouds after a storm, the new one can begin. I am done; I am undone. I am dead; I am reborn.

I'd like to say it's all because of him; that would be the romantic route. And it is true that so much of him is made of what he taught me. But that would be forgetting the others. The countless others, whose names are now scars that will never, can never, should never fade. Even thinking of them hurts.

"Perhaps…" I stop as soon as I start. I don't have to do this; it is a lot for anyone to take in. The campfire is already burning a little low, and by the time my story is finished the ash will have already been scattered by the wind. I could even jeopardize my relationship with this man, the person I've longed to be with more than any other. Someone I spent years pining for, only to lose over a confession.

"What?" He brushes my darkened hair out my face. "What is it?"

"I-I…" There's no going back. It's rising like bread in my heart and must come out, whether we like it or not. "Why don't I tell the story?"

"Stories around the campfire?" He smiles wryly. "Okay, whatever you say."

"You may not like it," I warn him. "You may hate and despise me-"

"No." His voice is firm, solid, like a rock. He clutches my hand tightly- not painfully- so securely that I think he might be frozen to me. "No, I could never despise you. I swear it on my life." His voice has dropped an octave and diminished to a whisper only we hear and share. "I will never despise you."

I take a shaky breath before wiping away grateful tears with my free hand. "Alright then. If you're sure (he answered he was) I will start."

I am dying to be reborn into this new life, under the velvet shade of a forest night by an orange campfire with the man I love. Tired, hungry, dirty, on the run. Happier- truly, deeply content- than I've been in so long.

" _Once upon a time, a single drop of sun fell from the heavens…_ "

* * *

 **Haha, yes, I'm teasing you with another prologue. But this one is from Rapunzel's POV and actually serves as an extra epilogue. Sorry I've been so late, I've had so much to do and sort out. I will update soon. I've been working on first actual chapter for months, so I'll give it a go.**


	3. Chapter 3

The day that killed my childhood was a sweet, late spring evening, at a ball in my parents' home. The chandeliers, resembling upside down cherry trees woven of crystal and twisted metal layered in gold, shone like giant lanterns on the ceiling. Scented candles on the tables glowed warmly. The stars and moon cast even more light through the tall glass windows, white and luminous in the cobalt sky. It seemed as if all the light in the world had come to bless us that May night.

But I did not notice. Instead, I focused on avoiding the numerous princes of the Southern Isles, who were visiting for a few weeks. The ball was to commemorate their arrival; our two nations rarely associated in the past, and Father hoped to forge an alliance, if only to avoid making an enemy. The Southern Isles were notorious for their ruthless military tactics and their powerful navy.

It was easier than I thought. The older ones remained in a tightly packed throng, tucked in a corner of the room. The crown prince, Prince Caleb, was nearly forty, married to the Princess of Resia, and too old for frivolous parties. The next five were also married, but I noticed one of them eyeing the other young, unmarried beauties while his poor, mousy wife looked on helplessly. The unmarried, younger princes mingled freely. Due to their lower status, they were not necessarily expected to marry princesses. They danced, drank, and flirted with the enthralled noblewomen, who hung onto their every word. My job had been done for me.

King Elias I of the Southern Isles spoke with my parents. His gray hair and wrinkled, pocked skin betrayed his age, but his sturdy shoulders and the cold steel in his stare reminded us not to underestimate his abilities. Or his military.

I was seventeen. I wasn't worried about whether the alliance would go through or not. My father, Frederic the Merciful, had never raised an army. There hadn't been a war in twenty-seven years. Our military consisted of the Royal Guard, which focused mainly on the castle and its inhabitants. We posed no threat to the Southern Isles, who would benefit from our prosperous trade and Father's reputation as a master diplomat.

The only thing worrying me was _how_ Father planned to secure the union. Yes, he could talk a man into believing night was day, but for a man like Elias, something tangible needed to be presented. Gold, an army, a _bride_.

"Your father has crossed the Rubicon; there's no going back," Mother Gothel told me earlier as she brushed my hair lovingly. "If he fails tonight, there'll be blood to pay."

"Father's a good diplomat," I replied. "After all, the king's an old man. He can't fight forever. No one likes war."

"Oh, Rapunzel, you can be so naive sometimes." Gothel sighed, resting her head atop my shoulder as we looked into the mirror together. "Some people do like war. It gives them power. And you have no idea how long and hard some will fight for that."

"Well, it's a good deal for him."

"I'm sure." Gothel's short tone betrayed her fear. She got anxious whenever I had to leave her for, well, anything. She'd lost many things before her life as my governess, and she feared I would be next. I never understood it, but then again, according to her, I understood little of how the world worked.

"It's only a ball," I said, hoping to soothe her fears. "I'll be back soon."

"I know, I know," she snapped, getting up and starting to pace. "But one night could change everything."

"What could happen?"

"Anything!" She ran her hands through her hair anxiously. "There's eleven princes! All of a marriageable age! Who could do anything to you." She paused to catch her breath, then resumed again, even more frantic. "Not to mention assassins. You're a princess, heir to the throne. A literal walking target. And what about the plague? One sneezing servant and we'll be giving you the last rites. Not to mention those catty ladies gossip and tear you to shreds. Flower, can't you just tell your father you're ill?"

I was a "sickly" princess. Sometimes Mother Gothel became so paranoid that I stayed in with a faux illness with her for the night. We'd play cards, cook my favorite hazelnut soup, talk like schoolgirls for hours upon hours. Gothel always dismissed the Royal Physician, taking a vial of medicine to pacify him. The foul tasting medicine was disposed of, and in the sanctuary of my bedchamber, where no one entered without permission, I sang for her.

But I couldn't do that tonight. Father made it clear he needed to provide the image of a kind, strong family to impress King Elias. The narrowing of his eyes suggested that he knew the truth about my poor health. At least part of it. Besides, I was nearly eighteen. I couldn't spend all my time with a governess like a child. I would be queen one day; monarchs did not hide all day with their nurses.

But I didn't dare tell her all that. Instead, I offered my best smile and shrugged. "Afraid not, Mother Gothel. But I'll tell you all about later."

She rolled her eyes. "Rapunzel, please tell me you're not that dense. The king has no wife! She's dead! And with all those boys and an alliance to broker- well, think about it!"

I did think about it. I observed the way the princes and the decrepit king looked at me. The way their eyes traveled up and down my figure. The greedy glint in their pupils as they took in the finery. The monarchs of the Southern royals led Spartan lifestyles, at least by royal standards, to test their strength and prepare them for battle. And I had overheard gossip from servants about Mother and Father looking for an appropriate match for me.  
So I kept to the shadows, chatting with occasional nobleman or lady. I danced a waltz with a young duke, wondering if he might catch my interest. Princesses married nobles all the time; Father would have no objections, I figured. But the duke was stunned into silence by the fact that he was dancing with the princess; after our waltz, he dashed over to his friends, bragging about the encounter.

"Did you see that? I danced with the princess with of Corona! I wonder how the old codger think! To think that I might be Prince Consort someday!"

I flinched; my face flushed scarlet. The "old codger" was my father, in the crudest of terms. Not all Coronans admired my father's peaceful policy; where Father saw tact and finesse, others saw weakness.

"There she is!" One of his friends pointed to me. I barely made eye contact, gathering my skirt and moving as far away as possible. A group of ladies tittered; I don't know if they were laughing at me or not, but it came at the worst moment possible.

I sauntered along the wall sullenly. I never fit in at these events. I was either too odd or too dull for society. Everyone knew of my poor health and Mother Gothel's protective nature. Some pitied me and prayed for my good recovery. Most shook their heads, wondering how such a sheltered child would run a kingdom or, in extreme cases, who'd inherit the throne if I died young.

 _Stupid duke. I can certainly tell who won't be getting close to my crown._ But it was my fault. Mother Gothel had been right. I was too gullible, too stupid and silly to see his true intentions. I invited him; I practically asked to be humiliated. Perhaps I'd be better off if my parents arranged my marriage. Then again, I'd have to leave Gothel. Maybe I could just stay locked up in a tower, just the two of us, and live off hazelnut soup and my hair.

I meandered into the crowd, counting down the hours. If Father made me marry Elias, I'd be a widow for most of my life. If Father died, God forbid, I'd be the queen. I'd have to do this every single day of my life, not to mention the countless meetings with Parliament ("a pack of dogs," in Father's words) and marriage to another powerful stranger. There were no other heirs; I certainly wasn't going to pass the throne to Uncle Gilbert, my father's younger brother and an infamous partying drunkard and womanizer. His daughter, Princess Vera, was a year younger than me, but you would never have guessed it based on her demeanor; stiff as a board and cold towards all she considered less intelligent (particularly my side of the family), I sometimes mistook her for a governess or an old lady trapped in a sixteen-year-old body. Mother said a ruler must be able to make her people love her, and Vera was as lovable as a metal statue.

Perhaps it would be best if I died young. I was so caught up in my misery that I didn't notice a portly man bending over right as I passed him. His backside crashed into my hip; the heavy pink over skirt of my ball gown dragged me toward the floor. I didn't even have a chance to cry out before a gloved hand seized mine and pulled me upright.

"Milady, are you-" I turned to face him and barely suppressed a shriek. Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, the youngest son of Elias, stood before me.

Like the duke, I froze, stunned. This was one of the princes, the son of the world's most militant king. I'd seen his brothers' tall, burly frames and their gruff, bearded faces. But Hans looked nothing like them. His silky reddish auburn hair was swept back to reveal a clean shaven (save for a pair of sideburns) fair face, inset with bashful green eyes. A light dusting of freckles turned a plain face into one that made me stop, captivated.

Fortunately, he didn't mind my staring or disbelief, mainly because he only now realized my identity.

"Oh my, I'm sorry I didn't know you were-" He quickly bowed. "Your Highness."

I curtsied. "Your Highness."

He laughed. "I am a visitor in your kingdom and a guest in your home. You needn't defer to me."

"Of course." I blushed. "It just feels right."

"Oh." He smiled. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting you like this, before. Surely we were introduced, but I fear you did not notice me since I was one of eleven brothers. However-" motioning to me "-I cannot say the same about you."

 _Oh my_. I searched for something clever to say, but found nothing. "I- I thought there were thirteen of you."

"Well," he said, his eyebrows furrowing, "my twin brothers, Rudi and Runo, are, eh, absent tonight. I'm not sure if you've heard the stories, but I apologize for any trouble they've caused you."

"Pardon?"

"Oh, why not?" He waved his hand as if he could care less. "They were destined for a bad end anyways. The twins-" leaning in to whisper to me "- ran off last year for a life a crime. I fear they run amok, stealing and trying to make a name for themselves as notorious criminals, in lands on the continent. Like this one."

"Ahh." My gaze fell to the floor as my cheeks burned once more. No doubt I'd embarrassed this kind, handsome man by bringing such a scandal. The alliance would fall through, I'd be disgraced permanently, and Elias's fleet would destroy us. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your doing." Hans gingerly placed his fingers under my chin and lifted it so that our eyes met.

"Nor yours," I replied shamefully.

"They were always mean to me." Hans shrugged. "You know, they pretended I was invisible for a year."

"That's terrible!" I often felt the same at balls, but I knew I was always welcome with my parents and nurse.

"It's what brothers do." He chuckled. "Besides, you saw how well they've turned out."

"Yes, they're model citizens, no?" We both burst into chortles at that. Several guests glanced at us before returning to their muted conversations.

"I never had any siblings," I confessed. "I wouldn't know anything about siblings."

"Yes, I know." Hans sighed. "You're their greatest joy, I suppose. And heir to the throne- not that titles matter."

"Trust me, I'd rather have siblings. Maybe if I did, I wouldn't be such an odd duck at these gatherings."

"Odd duck?" He raised an eyebrow. "Says who?"  
"Everyone." I sauntered over to the table where food and drinks were laid for some wine. "I'm somewhat of a recluse."

"Well, you're quite a social recluse," he said, following me.

"I spend most of my time with my governess; she's… protective." I inwardly winced. Should I have told him that so soon? My encounter with that duke taught me nothing.

"Nothing wrong with having someone that cares about you." He grinned. "My brother Lars stood up for me- sometimes. He's the family historian; if you can't find him, just look in the library."

"What about you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't know. I hate to be predictable." He winked. "Some days I go out horse riding. Other times I train with my sword. I never do anything with my brothers, though."

"So we're both talented at entertaining ourselves." I took a sip of wine.

"Right again." He cocked his head, letting a strand of hair fall in his spring green eyes. "You read people very well."

My chest shook, ready to explode and cave in. I put my glass down, biting my lip to keep from screaming. The all too familiar sensation of my face turned florid returned, but this time I felt as if I were flying above the clouds.

 _You read people very well._

How could he have known how much I needed to hear that? A tingly, fiery sensation bloomed inside me. I thought I might die young after all, suffocating on joy and… love.

Love. Was this what it felt like? I knew that my parents shared a connection like this, even before their marriage. Mother Gothel's fierce protectiveness stemmed from love, as she reminded me daily.

Royal marriages weren't about love. They served a purpose, some sort of gain. Power, money, new land, an _alliance_. I dared to gaze upon Hans, who stared back. A knowing levelness in his eyes trapped me, and we watched each for a frozen moment in time.

Finally Hans broke silence, extending a welcome hand and bowing low. "Your Highness, may I have this dance?"

I laid my smaller hand in his larger one. "You may."

We danced for hours. After a final waltz, the clock struck two, and the ball reached its end. The few remaining guests bid farewell before heading for their carriages, yawning. King Elias already retired, along with most of his sons. Hans left me last.

"Till tomorrow, or later today, really," he said, looking at the clock. He gave a final bow and kissed my hand. I sank onto the grand staircase, sitting there in my thoughts again. Gothel found me and herded me back to my chambers, scolding me for being so late. I barely heard her; the only thing I knew was that I was flying. And Hans had shown me how.

* * *

 **Ok this is the first update in a while. I'm really grateful for all the followers and favorites, and I hope to not disappoint.**

 **Yes, this is Frozen's Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. I imagine the Southern Isles to be some, well, islands off the coast. Corona is on the great continent, kind of like Europe.**

 **Rapunzel's characterization will differ from the movie; if she had not been kidnapped, she would have had a closer relationship with her parents and probably a more refined character, as a royal. Also, this tale is grittier, so there will be some harsh angles. However, I hope everything works out. I'll try to update sooner. Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

The guests did not make another appearance until luncheon the following day. Elias sat next to Father, as the guest of honor. I was seated across from him, on my father's other side. Hans was all the way down the long oak table, beside Mother. Upon seeing me, he gave a timid wave.

"It is excellent to be here, in your kingdom," Elias remarked dryly. "A worthy place to invest in."

"I'm glad you think so," Father replied warmly.

The Westergaards ate almost grudgingly. Sure, they used the right spoons and kept from spilling or splattering their food, but the blunt edge to their movements bespoke contempt for our frivolity. Not a word uttered, even between the brothers and their wives.

"You know, Elias, I've been thinking, we should take you and your family on a tour of the kingdom," Father suggested, to break the uncomfortable silence. "We could take the carriages go out for a country ride. It's quite lovely in the spring."

"Yes, that would be 'lovely,' as you put it," Elias answered in a surly tone, stabbing his fork into a sausage. "It is such a little country and would only take a couple of days at the most."

Father's serene façade remained placid, but my mouth fell open at his rudeness. What kind of guest wrote to invite himself to another country only to insult it upon arrival? Not to mention all the trouble we went to accommodate him and his enormous family. A surge rose in my chest, and, unable to keep quiet, I laughed out loud.

"Oh, Your Grace, it is wonderful," I declared, "to be able to see the expanse of your domain within the day." All eyes fell on me. I swallowed, pressing on. "At least, you can see the center of it in one day. We mustn't neglect the mainland, where many of our fine nobility and gentry live. Not to mention our farmers and territories. Those can take months to travel, since there are great forests and canyons. Of course, you must be aware of this, since you seemed so keen on visiting our humble nation."

At the foot of the table, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mother's smooth face contorting, trying to suppress a gasp of horror and admiration. Hans didn't hide his glee; I guessed from last night that he didn't care for his father. My father remained expressionless; only a familiar twinkle in his eye notified me of his amusement.

Elias certainly was not pleased. His eyebrows furrowed as he met my steady gaze.

"I see your governess has instructed you well in the art of making conversation and the geography of your kingdom. Tis a pity that you do not get to exhibit these talents very often in person."

At this Mother raised her voice. "Your Grace, she so enjoys the balls and parties that we host, and I like to go on small excursions with her throughout our kingdom every now and then. However, a trip outside the palace, be it long or short, would be beneficial to us all."

That shut Elias up, but the burdensome silence returned. Prince Lars, the one brother Hans liked, spoke up.  
"My youngest brother, Prince Hans, was the one who asked to come here," he explained. "He finds your culture most fascinating."

"Really?" Father queries, genuinely interested. "What is it you find appealing, young man?"  
Hans blushed. Hues of violet, scarlet, gold melded together in his cheeks… how I longed to capture them all with my watercolors.

"Your Majesty, I simply admire the beauty and age of your traditions," Hans said. "I especially am in awe of the lantern festival you hold each year; I've always wanted to see one."

Father's chest puffed out in pride. "And so you shall. You have very good taste, I can see, and I am glad that you convinced your family to join you. We're very happy to have you here."

"Yes," Mother added. "It is truly a pleasure."

"Thank you." Hans took a bite of salad before continuing. "If it wouldn't trouble you, I wonder if you could explain the meaning behind the lantern festival?"

"No trouble at all," Father said. "It's a very old Corona tradition; there's some speculation over how it started, but these lanterns- floating lanterns- are meant to replicate the sun at night. To guide the lost home."

"It's tradition to have the festival on the crown prince's birthday," Mother chimed in. "They used to be let go on Frederick's birthday, back when his father was still alive."

"And now they float on my darling daughter's birthday." Father gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

"Amazing; such a beautiful and tender thing to do," Hans said, but he was not looking at my parents as he spoke. Instead, his emerald eyes met mine with each word.

"Perhaps instead of chattering across the room, we could eat this elaborate meal your cooks prepared for us in peace," Elias snapped, breaking the mood.

* * *

"You should just keep your mouth shut and your eyes and your ears open." Gothel raked a comb through my hair. "I don't what got into you."

"He was insulting us," I protested. "What's he going to do, declare war?"  
"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. At any rate, it'd still be your fault, just like all my other problems." As if to emphasize she gave an extra yank.

"Other problems?"

"All concerning you." She gripped my shoulders possessively. "You being queen one day, getting mixed up with boys, acting like a child." My teeth gritted.

"But I do it all because I love you, my darling," she added. "And one can hope for little miracles."

"Anyway, the sons seem nicer than their father," I said.

"Yes, I heard you had an enchanting evening with one of them at the ball last night." Gothel finished combing and let my hair fall on my back. It sprawled the floor since I was sitting, but when I stood, the ends fell to my ankles.

"It was nice." I wrung my hands, anticipating her response.

"I'm sure it was nice for him to be dancing with the heir to the throne." She seized my chin and turned my head to look in her gray owl eyes. "Stop being so naive, you know he's after one thing."

"Hans?" I blurted out his name before I could stop.

"Is that his name? Well, at it isn't as odd as yours- stop looking at me like that, I'm only joking."

"He was kind to me."

"Kind to you? I'm kind to you, and yet you continually disregard my orders and make mountains of trouble for me!" Gothel released my chin and grasped her forehead, running her spindly fingers throughout her dark hair, panting like a wild beast. "Let's be honest, you aren't capable of looking after yourself, let alone ruling this kingdom. And I worry constantly about what you're going to do if I'm not here to look after you."

"I'm eighteen," I whispered weakly.

"And yet you run around barefoot and misbehave as if you were six!" She collapsed in a nearby chair, her beautiful fingers still drumming on her forehead. "Just stop, darling, you'll just upset me."

We sat, silent as tombstones, while Gothel composed herself. Harsh lines etched her face, and her chest rose and fell exhaustedly. A stabbing force gnawed at my heart and brain. Once again I'd forgotten how the toll of taking care of me weighed on her.

"I'm sorry, Mother Gothel."

She creaked an eyelid open, giving me a tired, cynical glance. "I know how you feel, Rapunzel. It's only natural to feel elated when someone notices you- especially when they have so many better options. But you leap into things too quickly, and these things always end in heartbreak. I might sound harsh, but I'm just trying keep you safe. Heaven knows what would happen to me if I lost you." Her foot nudged my hair.

"Yes, Mother Gothel."

"I know you will have to marry someday, and I know that someone will need to take care of you, besides me. But let me and your parents do the dirty work; we don't want you making a muddle of everything." She rose and sauntered to my closet. "Make me a promise, Rapunzel; Promise that you'll be careful, that you won't do anything stupid."

"I promise." My voice was barely audible. "It's not dangerous, he's alright."

"Stop with the mumbling, Rapunzel, it's annoying." She held out a violet tulle ball gown. "Now let's get you ready for tonight. I don't know how we'll get you to look presentable, but hey, miracles are possible."

I sighed. "Mother Gothel…"

Gothel's fingertips skimmed my locks again. "Sing for me?"

* * *

We finished the day at a house party hosted by some duke on the mainland. I hardly got to see Hans, since the locals were still mesmerized by the new visitors, but I did enjoy myself. It was a nice change to be going out instead of playing hostess and catering to every guest's whim. The young noblemen made me laugh, but I held them at a distance. Despite my promise to my governess, I strangely felt protective of Hans as he was bombarded with questions, especially by the host's young daughter.

Only as we headed back to our caravan of carriages did I catch a minute to myself. My feet ached from the high heeled shoes I'd been wearing for hours; I never cared for shoes. I loved it when Gothel let me run around the castle and through the gardens barefoot, even if it appeared childish.

I was so focused on the thought of kicking my shoes off in the carriage that I failed to notice Hans, flushed red from the heat of the party, coming up to me.

"Your Highness," he said. I jumped, startled with delight.

"No please, call me Rapunzel," I stammered. A series of nervous waves spasmed throughout my entire being. "I mean, we already met and we're friends- not that I'm presuming anything…" My tongue tied, I wondered why I didn't just keep my big stupid mouth shut, like Gothel advised.

"Of course, we are friends, even if it has been only one day." Hans cleared his throat and continued. "R-Rapunzel, I only wanted to say… you looked very beautiful tonight. Though I'm sure everyone tells you that."

"No," I responded, thinking back to Gothel teasing.

"Well, I think so. And I think lots of people agree with me." He kissed my hand and bowed before heading to his own carriage, leaving a stunned princess in his wake. I stood frozen for centuries, deaf to my mother calling me.

I don't remember much more; I know I sounded like a silly girl. But these feelings were all so new, so adventurous and unspoiled to me. A new land, a different, much better world to explore.

I had only one moment with Hans after Gothel's lecture. And that was all it took.

* * *

 **Westergaards- Hans and family's last name.**

 **In case it's not obvious, Rapunzel is falling hard for Hans. However, this is by no means a Hans x Rapunzel story. I do not think that Hans should be seriously shipped with anyone. There's more to him than one would think. Eugene will be making somewhat of an appearance shortly.**


	5. Chapter 5

After that day, Hans and I were inseparable. We spent every possible second together, laughing and joking, stealing tiny intervals during parties and balls, exploring the castle and the grounds.

Before, I never knew how big or layered my home was. I suppose it should have been obvious, seeing as it rose above the island of Corona City, but the full extent finally hit me. Gothel rarely let me venture beyond the usual corridors, which consisted of: my bedroom, the dining room, the ballroom, the endless series of drawing rooms and parlours, the conservatory to practice music, the tutors' classrooms, and the tearoom. It sounds like a lot, but imagine spending eighteen years of your life in only those rooms! I did frequently visit the gardens, but only under her close supervision- once a week, if she was feeling generous- and the rare journeys beyond the palace gates were confined to a closed carriage.

With Hans, I discovered an odd, straight crack in the wall outside my bedroom that, when probed, revealed a secret passage between the walls. The passage was a short whitewashed hallway leading to a wooden spiral stairwell, winding down into the chilly darkness.

"Let's investigate, shall we?" Hans suggested, her voice suave and rich. His lush eyes sparkled in curiosity.

"It goes down too far," I said in a feebler, softer tone. "What if we get lost?"

"Then we vanish together."

"I don't think my governess would approve." I recalled my promise. I never broke my vows; my word was my life, and if I couldn't keep my oaths, I did not deserve to be queen. My father, not Gothel, taught me so.

Hans pouted slightly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you let that woman control too much of your life."

"Excuse me?"

Hans shrugged. "She's nice and I'm sure she just wants to keep you safe, but that doesn't mean she has to control your every move."

"What's that supposed to mean? I do not want to get either of us into any trouble." Now I frowned as well, backing away from the secret entrance. "It's not a good idea to just go down some random passage, especially if it's been sealed off. It might be filthy or dangerous; we could get lost."

Now Hans's lower lip curled into an ugly scowl. I backed away even further. "I never thought you'd be afraid of a little adventure. Have you ever explored, or wanted to find something new and exciting? Something without reading it out of a book or asking your nurse?"

Now I glowered with fury. "Of course I have. I'm just not stupid enough to go into a sealed off hallway that no one uses; it's probably a boring dead end anyway." With a flounce of my skirt I stormed down the main, real hallway with carpet and wallpaper, back toward a more welcome, public room.

"Rapunzel, wait!" Hans dashed after me, his scowl vanished. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well, you just insulted my governess," I snapped, stopping where this hall met another leading to the conservatory and the gardens. "You have no idea how much she means to me; she's like-" I glanced around to make sure no eavesdropping servants were present. "-like my mother."

"Oh." An agitated hush dangled between us. Hans stared at the newly polished tips of his boots. "You must love her very much."

"I do." I sighed, regretting my harshness. He only wanted a bit of fun; I shouldn't have gotten so angry. Besides, what harm could possibly come to us?

"We don't have to go in there if you don't want to."

"No, no, it's alright, maybe you're right." I grinned cheekily. "She doesn't have to know everything I do."

His bushy auburn eyebrows perked up. "If you're sure-"

I chortled nervously. "Get a lantern. I want to see what's down that staircase."

000

Turns out, the staircase led to an antechamber, from which six hallways sprouted. The floor was only packed caramel dirt that gathered into thin mounds, shuffled together beneath our feet; a damp, rancid odor wafted from the stone walls. Columns of withering stones stacked together, green and gray from age and moisture, held up the heavy domed ceiling. The image of the rocks collapsing on us made me shudder.

"Sh, I've got you." Hans's gloved right hand encased mine as he held the lantern aloft with the left. "Which way do you want to go?"

"I don't know." A bullet shivered down my spine. Stories of servants getting lost in secret passages and starving to death, without ever seeing the light of day, urged me to run back up the staircase and head straight for the outdoors, where the sun shined without restraint, but I wouldn't chicken out on Hans. Hans is with me, Hans will keep me safe.

"I say we go down this one."

"Okay." I didn't bother looking, reckoning I'd probably scare myself out of it and alienate him for good. We trudged down the dirt path, the soil shifting slightly with wetness and sticking to our shoes. Gothel's going to kill me.

"Look Rapunzel, it's all harmless. It's quite fascinating, really." I looked; it wasn't that much different from the antechamber, save for the walls and ceiling curving over us in a menacing tunnel. Quite boring, to be honest.

"What if we get lost?"

"We won't get lost."

"You sound so certain. You've never been here."

"Feel how muddy it is?"

"Yes, we've ruined our shoes."

"I thought you didn't like shoes."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean I want to ruin them!" I laughed.

"I think that ship has sailed." He teased back. "I dare you to take them off."

"Hans! I don't know what we're walking in." The horrifying prospect of bats and their waste dawned on me. "Do you think there's going to be anything down here?"

"I doubt it. I just wanted to explore."

"I wonder if this goes all the way under the castle."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, there's several tunnels and hallways, and they all seem to be leading somewhere. Besides, this castle is three hundred years old. It makes me wonder if there's a whole system of catacombs beneath the castle. Maybe an abandoned shortcut for servants."

"Or an escape route for times of trouble."

"I doubt you could find your way."

"Perhaps they had drills or something. But Corona's a pretty peaceful place; there hasn't been a war here since before your father was king."

"Yes I remember. Father said that after witnessing all the horrors, he vowed never to raise an army or declare war against anyone."

"There's no army?"

"Well, there's the guard and some militias. But we're not that kind of kingdom- not to insult the Southern Isles or other warlike places- I mean, places that have good militaries- oh, I'm so sorry." My shoulders slumped in disgust at myself. Just leave me here to rot; it's as good as I deserve, disobeying Mother Gothel and insulting you.

Hans released my hand. My heart froze, prepared to drop. Then it purred in relief as he threw his arm around my shoulders.

"No offense taken. I agree, my father has too many wars. He says it's necessary to protect our interests, but I think he's just trying to get the people to like him."

"With war?"

"It boosts public morale. Not too much war. After a while, the constant strain gets old and the people are less impassioned. But if you have a series of small skirmishes, the populace becomes fierce and spirited. They believe they're fighting for a great nation and are willing to do more for king and country." Hans smirked. "My father isn't really a king; he's a general. And his forte is on the battlefield."

"That's interesting." I couldn't conjure a clever response like Gothel. Father never did declare war; it was impossible for me to relate. "Is that good?"

"Depends on how you look at it." He puffed out his chest. "The Isles have always been a militant state. Every man is required to enlist in the army for at least a year. I am an admiral."

"You're an admiral?" I repeated incredulously. I pictured him in the tailored navy blue coat, adorned with golden braids, and the giant, rather cumbersome hat naval officers wore. He would look quite handsome in uniform.

"Aye. I've been in a few battles- nothing major. My brothers did all the real work." He stopped in his tracks. "To be honest, I haven't done very much in my life."

"It's alright," I consoled him. "Neither have I."

"Well, you're cooped up here with her your studies. Me, I've had my chances, and I threw them away." A doleful gaze captured mine. "It's one of the reasons my father looks down on me. He's certainly glad I'm not going to become king."

Poor Hans. I patted his shoulder gently. "Well, it may not be a popular sentiment, but I think you would make a great king. You could rule very well if you had the chance."

Hans hugged me. "That I could. That I could."

Our tender moment was interrupted by a rumbling. The thuds of approaching footsteps- a myriad- reverberated off the walls.

"Hans?" I pulled away from him, arms out defensively, not sure what was coming.

Torchlight gleamed on the stone walls. Demonic, distorted shadows writhed in the yellow glow. A familiar, blind bullet of liquid panic shimmied up and down my spine.

"Hans?" I cried, my voice shrill.

"Rider!" The Captain of the Guards and a handful of men burst around the corner, swords and torches in tow. Charging among them was… a horse? A white steed, neighing ferociously. His beautiful mane fluttered behind him.

"Stop! Stop!" Hans raised his hands. "We're not intruders!" I blessed him mentally for his sharp mind- a mark of an Admiral.

"Your Highness!" The guards halted and bowed. "And Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles."

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"We've been looking for you everywhere." Captain pointed from where he came. "Conli, take Her Highness and His Highness to the throne room. Quickly. There's been a robbery."

000

Our tunnel intersected with a staircase cut into the wall, which led to the servants' quarters. The stream of servants coming and going had not dwindled, even with a crime, and each of them made sure to bow or curtsy as we passed.

Conli guided us through a labyrinth of corridors until we finally reached the throne room. I never cared for the throne room; its blandness made it less beautiful than the conservatory and less grand than the ballroom. The marble paneled walls and gigantic stain-glass windows were alright, but the golden sun emblem of Corona was everywhere: on plum-hued dovetailed banners hanging from the ceiling, flags protruding from the wall, in violet and lime colored patterns of stained glass in the windows. The countless rows of pews reminded me of a church. At the front of the room, on a raised platform, two oversized chairs with amethyst cushions and gold leaf were erected. Normally my crown- a delicate golden tiara composed of a web of bejeweled vines woven together, all connected to three egg-sized teardrop diamonds- rested on a cushion between them, but today it had vanished. Instead, a troupe of guards formed a rectangle around the thrones, with numerous others carefully investigating the scene.

My father, sweet Papa, was off to the side, discussing something in a hushed tone with Elias. My mother clung to his arm. Gothel stood there as well, hyperventilating, but as soon as she saw us she stormed over.

"Where on earth have you been?" she snarled, roughing grabbing my wrist to haul me away from Hans.

"We were exploring." I stumbled over my skirt as she yanked me over to a corner. The embroidery I'd done on the hem disappeared under a thick layer of mud. I hated to think of my shoes.

"Why are you so filthy? You look like a sow in the mud. And why were you with him?"

"I was showing him the castle; he's our guest."

Gothel let go of wrist only to clench my shoulders. "What did I tell you about seeing that boy? They only want one thing. You are too young to be chasing after grown men, like a little trollop-"

"That's enough, Gothel." Father's firm voice pierced through her sardonic lecture. "I will take this from here."

"Your Majesty." Gothel curtsied. "I was only telling the Princess that-"

"Please." Father gestured to the exit. "I must speak to my daughter as her father."

"Very well, Your Majesty." Gothel curtsied a second time as she proceeded to scurry away. "I only want what is best for her."

Father stiffened. "I do not believe that calling her degrading names and limiting her contact with people is the right way of going about it."

Gothel's face simmered, but she obediently departed. Father shook his head, turning to face me.

"Father, it was nothing, she only wants to protect me," I explained, hoping to vindicate my governess. He held up his broad palm for silence.

"I heard you and Prince Hans were wandering through the catacombs. It's incredibly hazardous down there. What were you doing?"

"Exploring," I said for the thousandth time. "Honest. Nothing inappropriate happened. Mother Gothel is simply paranoid at times, that's all. I promised her I wouldn't do anything stupid."

"And yet you went into unknown territory with a stranger."

"Hans isn't a stranger. We're friends."

"Rapunzel," he uttered in a warning tone, "I've seen the way you look at that boy. He's a nice young man, I'll give him that, but you are not even eighteen. He is three years your senior and the last in line to inherit the throne."

"What does that matter?"

"I don't want to sound like Gothel, but the fact that you are the future queen of a prosperous kingdom may entice more than you like to think."

I fumed. I wished everyone would just stop with the subject of my inheritance. Being the princess didn't do much for me; I never received any training in statesmanship or diplomacy. I fumbled over sentences and courtly banters at engagements, making me an odd duck among peers. The pinnacle of my career consisted of visits to the poor, with bread and gifts, but even that felt superficial. Nothing stood out in my sheltered life, except for one beacon of light: Hans.

The more I thought about it, in the presence of Father, I realized how he was akin to a mirror. We were limited in our endeavours as royalty, with an illustrious family name to live up to. We spent our lives as the black sheep, unsavory elements to be kept out of view. His brothers' shadows covered him, while Gothel essentially sealed me in an ivory tower. We blew like refuse in the wind, searching, and now that we found each other to reflect ourselves, like mirrors, everybody seemed determined to take that away.

I yearned to say these things to Father, to make him understand, to let him know me better, but the words refused to form. These phrases sounded insipid, immature, so I remained silent, but burning. And dreaming. Was I always to simply dream, rather than do?

"Darling, I know these feelings are wonderful and confusing at the same time. And I don't agree with Gothel's methods at all. I think she's protective to the point of cruel. She repeatedly steps out of line. I think it is time you moved beyond the charge of a governess, to be honest. You are the next ruler of Corona."

"You're firing her?" Hearing his disapproval of Gothel gave me a mean satisfaction, but life without her? Unimaginable.

"No, but reducing her role. She's too controlling." I couldn't disagree.

"Won't she be upset?"

"Most likely, but her feelings are secondary to the wellbeing of my daughter." Father laid his hand atop my head. "I know I haven't been the most exemplary father, even among kings. But there is time to change that."

"What do you mean?"

"It means, my darling, that I fully intend on spending more time with you, teaching you the finer points of ruling a kingdom."

I gasped, wondering if I heard right. The image of me, next to him as he addressed Parliament, speaking with petitioners, pouring over documents, inundated my mind. It enlivened and bored me concurrently.

Father chuckled at my expression. "It is not as bad as it seems. I want you to be prepared to be a good queen. As for the boy-" he noticed my worried moue "-I will allow you to continue seeing him. To be honest, I rather like him. But, do not let him goad you into anything you don't want. Understand?"

I nodded avidly. He chuckled again, shifting his focus back to the robbery. "Now, about the catacombs. Did you see anything suspicious down there?"

"No. Why were the guards down there?"

"They were looking for a thief that was here today. There's a whole system of underground tunnels beneath this castle. It used to be an escape route for times of trouble-"

"So Hans and I were both right!" I recalled our conversation as we hiked.

"Don't tell him too much; he is not of this kingdom."

"Of course, Father."

"But we discourage any use of them today. They haven't been taken care of and are subject to collapse. They only lead to shortcuts in the servants' quarters or hidden entrances to the castle."

"Really?"

"Boat landings. Alternate routes to the dungeons." Father cringed. "That aside, there's something about the theft that I wanted to tell you."

"What, Papa?"

"Well, er-" The usual tranquility he wore drained from his face. He cleared his throat several times until finally muttering, "Your crown was stolen."

Yet again, I was appalled.

"The notorious thief, Flynn Rider, absconded with it half an hour ago." Father's mustache twitchted unpleasantly. "I have my best men on the hunt for him. We will get your crown back, I assure you. That man's earned himself a life sentence several times over. No one was hurt, thank goodness."

I held my tongue for all of thirty seconds before bursting out in hysterical giggles. My father, along with numerous guards, looked on disbelief.

It is funny how easily one balks at good fortune but laughs at the bad.

* * *

 **Oops! I contradicted myself in the last two chapters by saying Rapunzel is 17 and 18. To be clear, she is not eighteen: she is a few weeks shy of eighteen. But to her, and when it comes to telling Gothel she's a grown up, Rapunzel likes to think of herself as eighteen. Sorry!**

 **Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I liked the parts w/ Hans, but my writing is shakier and of lesser quality later on. I'll try to do better. Please review and spread the word! Feedback is an author's fuel!**


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